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The Pirates of Clew

Page 9

by Taylor Smith


  “Thank you, sir,” she replied and left the room trying desperately not to run as fast as she could.

  She kept her poise as she walked back to her quarters, not smiling to or even acknowledging anyone she passed. Keeping her eyes front, she entered her quarters and locked the door behind her.

  Alone, Haley’s hands went to her mouth, and her back pressed against the wall. She’d put so much energy into curbing her panic that it now radiated from her. Her heart slammed in her chest and tears swelled in her eyes. They’d been caught, or at least Saundi had. Her only saving grace was that they had no idea what they’d done, or that Haley was even involved.

  After a few moments she was able to shakily move to her bed and sit down. For several long minutes she allowed herself to simply breath. There was nothing she could do for Saundi, but perhaps if she found a way off the ship, she could expose Andrelli and save her.

  The door chime shook her back to reality. She almost groaned and wished the day would just be over. She squared herself and said, “Come in.”

  The door slid open to reveal the stolid form of Senior Chief Benley. “Ensign Marks,” he said evenly.

  Haley rose quickly, squared her shoulders and said, “Sir.” She finally resigned to the fact that this was the day from hell, and it would not end. She wasn’t sure how much strength she had left, but she would not allow her will to break. Saundi depended on her keeping cool. But the man standing in front of her was the epitome of Alliance rule and regulation. If anyone in the universe could catch someone in a lie, you could bet good credits on it being a chief of the Allied Fleet.

  “With me, Ensign,” Benley said abruptly and left her doorway.

  She closed her eyes, shook her head in defeat and followed the man into the corridor.

  They walked single file through the ship and as Benley entered a stairwell headed downward into the lower levels, Haley’s interest overrode her fear. They were leaving officer country and into the Senior Chief’s domain.

  Haley followed him out of the stairwell and into a level that was less crisp than the upper sections she was used to. Metal conduit ran overhead and the steel walls reflected the dull sheen of bare metal instead of the clean white paint that covered officer country.

  Crewmen that were headed in the opposite direction moved aside with their backs to the wall to give Senior Chief Benley the right-of-way. Each man and woman they passed nodded with respect and acknowledged his rank. This was command, Haley thought. This was a man who was not to be trifled with. This was the man that was going to break her.

  He led her into a large, empty observation room with a view of the stars outside, and closed the door behind her.

  “Sir.” Haley started.

  Benley held a hand up and moved to the window with his hands behind his back. He stared at the starscape for several seconds before turning toward her. “Shortly before zero four hundred hours today, you and Ensign Adair made your way to the secondary communications hub on deck two. You were there for approximately seven minutes and then left.”

  Haley was screaming inside and felt a trickle of sweat form on her brow but somehow kept a straight face and her eyes forward. She didn’t dare acknowledge or deny what he just said.

  The Senior Chief held her gaze for a moment and continued, “according to the internal logs of this vessel however, shortly before zero four hundred hours today you and Ensign Adair were each in your own quarters.” He paused again and waited for her to respond.

  When it was evident that she wasn’t going to say anything or react outwardly, Benley took a step toward her and said, “And at zero six thirty-seven Ensign Adair smuggled the data you stole last night into officer’s gym locker eighteen where you left it.”

  Haley’s eyes went wide, suddenly breaking her composure. “How –“.

  “Shut up, Ensign,” he said quickly and moved to an internal bulkhead of the room. He reached behind a thick duct and produced a small device, similar to what Saundi had hidden in her locker. “This is a copy of what myself and the enlisted I trust could collect during our tour on this ship,” he said as he held the drive up for her to see. “It also contains interviews of myself and several other senior crewmen that explains our reservations of Captain Andrelli’s actions. Take it.”

  “How did you know?” she managed to squeak out as she took the drive.

  “You forget who I am, Ensign Marks. I see all,” he responded. “You and Ensign Adair are the only officers to come aboard in two years. I had hoped that I could trust you with this information and after last night’s fiasco that hope was validated.”

  Benley then seemed to soften. His shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch, and his eyes suddenly held a touch of worry. “I’ve been on this ship for two years, Ensign. So have my men and women. We’re allowed text-only communication to our families and our off-ship superiors but nothing has returned in response. At this point we don’t think our messages are even leaving the Valiant. We knew something was wrong within the first few months but never had an opportunity to act on it until now.”

  Haley wasn’t going to be spaced today. Relief flowed through her and the knowledge that Senior Chief Benley was on their side only strengthened that. “Why haven’t you done anything about it?”

  Benley shook his head. “There’s nothing we can do. Yes, I and my enlisted outnumber the officers four to one, but there are systems in place to prevent a mutiny. In every scenario I see us lasting about ten minutes before they gas the entire ship with F.N.G.-12. At that point we all go blind, shit ourselves and pass out while the officers walk right through the stuff and drag us to the brig.”

  “What?” Haley asked surprised. She’d never heard of anything like that. “What’s FNG-12?”

  “That’s not the technical name for it but FNG-12 is a nerve gas the academy fed you in small doses all through your training. That’s why your meals tasted like burnt shit. It won’t affect you now, or any other officer that came through the academy. You’ll be briefed on it if you ever make Lieutenant Commander,” Benley said with a scowl. “We’ve gotten our hands on some and a few of us have been taking minute doses with each meal, but it’ll take another year or two to get adjusted to it enough that it won’t affect us. I don’t think we have that much time.”

  He shook his head and pointed to her. “Just take that data and get it off this ship. I want to go home to my wife.”

  Haley stared at him for a moment, seeing him as a person instead of an iron juggernaut for the first time. She nodded and slipped the drive into her pocket. “Ok. But how?”

  Senior Chief Benley returned to his natural, chiseled state. “It’s all about timing, Ensign.”

  Chapter 9

  “Two grapples,” Cade mumbled to himself and thought of the benefits as he watched Andy at the helm and grapple controls. If the Grim Shoals had sported two of the menacing claws, it would have made things so much easier. The Reaper was almost twice as big, though, and there simply wasn’t room on the smaller frigate. “So if they roll, it’s easier to control as the second grapple would kill their yaw?” he asked Andy.

  “Exactly,” Andy said with a grin. “Both are also tipped with small EMP generators. If they do try and wriggle free, you just shock ‘em with a burst, and it shuts their systems down.”

  “And by the time their computers come back online you have them,” Cade finished. He’d grown closer to Andy over the past few weeks. Discovering that he’d told the second in command of the P.V. Reaper to “get out” of his hospital room was a slight shock, but he never mentioned it, and Cade was grateful.

  Cade had spent each spare moment of his days learning about the ship. The Reaper was larger than the Grim Shoals, with more crew and much heavier weapons. Andy had taken him on a tour, and Cade couldn’t have helped but to cringe at the sight of the two energy weapon bays they’d visited. Still a little too soon, he decided.

  His wounds were healing, and it was becoming easier to walk, but the pain never subsi
ded. He didn’t want to go back to Clew before completing his personal mission of finding Andrelli, but it seemed his options were running out.

  “Still here, Mr. Cade?” came the annoyed, gravelly voice of Captain Torbeck as he entered the bridge and took his seat.

  “Yes, sir,” Cade replied and turned back to Andy, who gave him a knowing smile. Cade understood the situation, but wouldn’t relent. He’d pleaded his case to Andy more than once, and even approached Captain Torbeck again to let him join the Reaper crew and hunt the Valiant. Each time it was the same thing: a resounding “No.” At least Andy seemed to sympathize with him.

  If they wouldn’t help him get the bastard who’d killed his family, he only had one choice: Cade would have to take command of the Reaper. His gut churned at that insane thought. The Reaper had triple the crew of the Grim Shoals, and they’d never let him. No matter how much he got to know and like Andy, he wouldn’t let him, either. And Captain Torbeck would kill him if he even got a whiff of what Cade was up to. He had to take everything he’d ever learned and use it all. He didn’t know much about commanding a starship, but he would learn. He’d have to.

  Captain Torbeck stirred and looked toward the communications station and Criss Hulbert that occupied it. “Ms. Hulbert, are we still dark?

  “Aye, Captain. Power emissions are low, communications are blacked out, running lights are dark, and we’re coasting toward the edge of the system for transit to Clew,” she answered, looking up from the comms station.

  Andy nodded and added, “We’ll reach the edge of Vorn in just over two days at this speed, Captain.”

  The Captain seemed to come to a decision as he slapped the arm of his command chair. “All right, dogs!” Torbeck barked with a grin. “You can keep eating and breathing up your bonus, or you can go to sleep for the ride home! What’ll it be?”

  Cade looked around the bridge as the crew all hooted and shouted their desire to go to sleep. The ship was dark and the sensors were clear as they edged toward the area of space where they could activate the interstellar drive. With nothing happening, the crew had a choice of entering the tanks early or staying awake, using up more food and fresh air, which would have to be topped off at Clew. The less they needed to restock, the less it cost, the more the payout. So naturally when given the chance, the crew opted for sleep. This also changed his entire plan for taking the ship.

  “Right then!” the Captain continued, seeming to be in a good mood. “Get off my bridge and get ta sleep!”

  Cade followed the cheerful crew off the bridge and made his way to the medical bay where the extra tanks were held. The loud speaker suddenly erupted with the announcement to the rest of the crew to begin entering their tanks and that they’d be waking up at Clew Station.

  The delight of the crew was nearly intoxicating, and Cade wanted more than anything to be a part of it. But he couldn’t. He wore his fake smile, cheered his fake cheer, and allowed his hatred and need for vengeance to drive his mind and craft each step toward his wild goal.

  He finally entered the medical area of the Reaper and relaxed. He just needed to –

  “Your tank is just in there,” came the voice of Dr. Grant. “Best go ahead and get in.”

  Cade whirled to find the doctor fussing over some glass canisters. He hadn’t expected the doctor. He thought he’d have the area to himself but then knew that was poor planning. Of course the doctor’s tank would be here. “Let me help with that,” he said and edged toward her in hopes it would buy him some time.

  “Thanks,” the doctor replied and handed him some of the delicate containers. “They just need to be put in any cabinet marked with a blue strip at the bottom. The compensators won’t let anything in there break. I’ll sort them out later.”

  He helped the doctor with her chores then walked with her to the area that held the tanks. “So which one’s mine?” he asked as he looked the six tanks over.

  “Doesn’t matter,” she replied. “Just pick one. The newer ones are here,” she said pointing to a few tanks with shiny white shells.

  Cade looked them over and then spotted the older models. They were a dark gray and the control panels were mechanical instead of sleek touch screens. “The white ones give me headaches. I’ll just use one of these,” he said and moved toward the tank farthest from the doctor’s.

  “Suit yourself,” the doctor said, not caring one bit which tank he chose and started undressing.

  Steadying himself with his right hand on the tank, very close to its control panel, Cade made a show of having trouble taking his boots off to give him a little time. That almost backfired when the doctor left her tank and started toward him to help, but he waved her off. During the time he took to get his boots unlatched and off, he’d pried a certain button cover from its housing and pinched the small indicator light off, then snapped the cover back and depressed it.

  He glanced up and smiled inwardly. The option he wanted was live, but wasn’t glowing the same as the other activated buttons next to it. For some reason, in the older models, they’d installed the option to disengage the sedation mechanism on the tank. He didn’t know who would want to be awake for a day or more stuck inside a tank, but he was glad for the option now. Hopefully, he would only be in the tank for an hour or two.

  Cade watched as the doctor bit down on the mask, which would put her to sleep before filling her lungs with a breathable fluid. Her eyes closed quickly, which he was glad for and watched as the tank filled around her.

  He knew either Andy or the Captain himself would come by shortly taking a headcount and ensuring everyone was safely in their tanks for transit, so he had to hurry. He finished getting ready and entered the tank. He hesitated suddenly, and checked the exit panel inside to ensure he could get out when he wanted. He found it was lit up and appeared operational, so he donned his mask and bit down.

  The moment the mask activated, the clear door shut and a surge of fear gripped him. He’d been stupid not to think of it and without any time to prepare himself mentally, his lungs suddenly flooded with fluid. He fought the urge to breath, but it became too painful. He finally inhaled, and his entire body convulsed in a racking cough that just wouldn’t complete. He slammed the fist of his good hand against the tank and forced himself out of the coughing fit. It was terrible. He felt like he was drowning, and he had to cough so badly but couldn’t due to the mask sealed over his mouth and nose.

  After a few nerve-racking minutes he was able to relax somewhat. He realized that if anyone had come into medical while that was happening, his plan would have been shot. He also found that he had his hand on the inside control panel and somehow managed not to activate it. He couldn’t breathe easily, but he could breathe the stuff. He opened his eyes and looked around the medical bay through the murky fluid. It was a surreal moment, and he hoped beyond hope that they would be checking tanks soon.

  After nearly an hour of staring at a digital clock on the wall at the other side of the room, Cade found he was quite comfortable. He still didn’t feel like he could take a full breath, but he found he enjoyed floating in the tank and caught himself nodding off periodically.

  Movement caught his attention, and he closed his eyes and stayed perfectly still. The sound of footsteps moved through the floor and up into the liquid in the tank. They were faint at first, but then became quite loud. They stopped suddenly, and he wondered if someone was standing in front of his tank, checking the readouts, but he didn’t dare open his eyes to see. After only a few seconds the footsteps sounded again, but this time the echo died down to almost nothing. He opened his eyes and caught the back of Captain Torbeck leaving the bay.

  It was a big ship, and if the Captain was personally checking all the tanks, then Cade knew he would have to wait longer. Perhaps Andy was helping to cut the time down, but he couldn’t take that chance, so he waited out another agonizing thirty minutes before pulling the release.

  The tank emptied and the fluid was quickly sucked from his chest only t
o have a burst of air pumped in. The mask disengaged, and he tore it from his face in a violent coughing fit. Taking a deep breath, he sighed and slumped into the bottom of his tank and hoped he never had to do that again.

  A few minutes later, Cade was fully dressed, sword and all. He walked around the medical bay several times trying to find what he needed. He knew the sedative came in a silver handle-shaped device with a stubby injection end. In the third drawer he rummaged through, he found them. He grabbed one that was loaded with the same blue drugs and stuffed it into his pocket. He thought back about his days aboard Grim Shoals and staying up with George and decided to take another, just in case there were two people he would have to face.

  Slinking his way out of medical, he walked by rolling his feet heel to toe as to not make a sound. His maimed left leg made it difficult, but he managed. The silence of the ship was eerie as he made his way through the empty corridors toward the bridge where he hoped only the pilot, a mean spirited but attractive young woman named Cassidy, was manning her station. If he could sneak up behind her and sedate her, the Reaper would be his.

  As he walked, Cade couldn’t help but repeat over and over in his head how crazy he was for attempting this. He’d actually been surprised he’d gotten this far and his nerves steadily became more and more frazzled.

  Cade stopped suddenly at the sound of two voices. Damn. He knew instantly that he would have a fight on his hands and with one arm and one and a half legs he had to get creative. He edged closer to find the voices were indeed coming from the bridge. He quietly moved to the side of the corridor to hide just inside the door to the war room, so he could think. He knew there was still over a day left, so he could wait it out. One of them was bound to come out sooner or later for food or the head before the ship made its transit into subspace.

  He would have to make his move before then. He could imagine no greater fear than hearing the interstellar drives ramp up and not be in a tank or safely on the bridge.

 

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